


More Than Family

by pieandangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieandangels/pseuds/pieandangels





	More Than Family

Dean and Sam returned to the bunker early in the morning exhausted, angry, and with so many questions it made Dean's head spin. He mumbled a "goodnight" to Sam and trudged to his room, every part of his body aching in spite of the fact that Cas had just healed him. Dean didn't feel healed at all. He felt as broken as he had three years earlier when Sam dove into Lucifer's cage.

He sat on his mattress, leaning back against the pillows and kicking his shoes across the room. On a normal day, he would carefully place his boots next to the door, socks folded neatly in the drawer, but today he didn't care. Confusion was muddling his thoughts, because back in the crypt he had almost said something, and he wasn't sure why. He didn't love Castiel. That was way too chick-flicky. Cas was his brother. His family. He needed Cas like he needed Sam. 

Didn't he?

Dean pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room, falling flat on his back again, staring at the ceiling. He felt like a thirteen year old girl. He rolled over and reached for the bottle of whisky on his nightstand. He took a quick swig; it had been a long time since the after burn made him flinch. He tried to chalk it up to the pressure he had been under in the crypt. He was willing to say anything to break Naomi's hold on Castiel. 

But he had been afraid to say it, and that meant something. The question was, what the hell did it mean? Dean didn't want to think about it, so he took another long pull from the whisky bottle, closed his eyes, and forced himself to sleep.

He dreamt of Cas. Pieces of him, anyway. The backwards tie, the unruly hair, the cheap shoes. That damn trenchcoat he had carried for months. And those eyes. Those clear blue marbles, always watching him, trying to understand him.

When Dean woke up, nothing was resolved. He thought about praying to Cas, but he wasn't sure what he would say. Come back to us? He couldn't ask that. I miss you? I need you? He'd said it before, it hadn't mattered. Cas still left. Dean stared at the ceiling for several long moments, then threw back the covers. He sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood. Walking over to the dresser, he paused to look at himself in the mirror. Not a scratch on him. Cas's mojo had worked well as ever, but there was still some unknown pain twisting beneath Dean's ribs. Something that constricted every time he thought of the trenchcoat.

He closed his eyes and steeled himself against the side of the dresser, head bowed. Even if Castiel wasn't answering, Dean knew now that he was always listening. He tried to relax, tried not to think about what he was about to do. He didn't want to consider the consequences. He didn't want to weigh the repercussions. He just wanted to make the ache in his chest stop.

"Cas? I hope you're listening. I know you're in hiding. You can't trust us for whatever reason. I get it. But I need you to know that you can come home whenever you need to. I promise. No questions asked. I just need you to know something. I think I...I think I love you."


End file.
